


Turbulence

by JaneTheNya



Series: Red Ending [2]
Category: We Know the Devil (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Multi, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29989287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneTheNya/pseuds/JaneTheNya
Summary: You want to be good. You want to be good so badly, so fucking badly. It blurs your vision and grabs at your arms, claws that pierce your skin and grip you tight, that scream into your face. It isn’t a possibility to be good anymore. But your body is tearing itself apart trying to do it anyway. It simply hurts too much to have tried for so long and to have failed in the end in spectacular fashion. It’s the same as if you hadn’t tried at all.
Relationships: Jupiter/Neptune (We Know the Devil), Jupiter/Neptune/Venus (We Know the Devil), Jupiter/Venus (We Know the Devil)
Series: Red Ending [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2183838
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Turbulence

**Author's Note:**

> I did not intend for this to be 42 pages originally, oops

You are scar tissue, matted hair and bruised skin. Your mind is static. You are kept alive by the life support system that is “having shit to do.” As long as there’s shit to do, you can’t succumb to the call of the abyss. You’re not sure why- you don’t have anything left to aspire to- but at times you figure it’s just muscle memory. You don’t know how to do anything else. You want to tear your flesh apart, rip open your skin and send a cloudy storm of blood into the world, unmaking yourself. But you can’t. You’ve got one thread clinging to life.

Every morning on your way back to your high school, you pass the church right along the way. Outside that church is a double-sided board, so you see one message coming and another leaving. The one when you’re entering says “I am not my own, I have been made new.” You would have found that comforting, once. Now it just reminds you that being made anew isn’t always for the best. The message when you’re leaving reads “great sinners need a great savior.”

When you step into the main doors of the school there are eyes on you. Nobody touches you. Everyone steers clear. But they watch you. Their eyes stare daggers that cut your skin and rend your body. The cruel, merciless gaze of God is shared by his most devout followers. Everyone understands the rules that have been set by the world. One mistake is too many. Sometimes, that mistake is simply being born bad.

You were born with the devil inside you, but it’s nothing personal. The devil is in everyone. And that’s a little disappointing, you figure. Maybe if you knew he chose you specifically, you could feel a little more special. Or maybe the knowledge that it was predestined from the beginning would dull the sting of the wound a little more, but you doubt it would.

You’ve never been that smart. Just smart enough to get by in honors classes, maybe. Smart enough to fail the AP history exam. Smart enough to get into a physics course you had no business trying to succeed in. You’re smart enough to get a C when your chances of passing are hopeless, but you’ve never been smart enough that it’s easy. You don’t have natural talent.

Those eyes will only watch you for so long. You’re the latest devil of the bunch, after all. Next summer, maybe, someone else will be the devil. And then they’ll get the stares. You won’t know. You won’t be here anymore. You’ll have graduated, or you’ll have died, or something. Those feel like the only options.

Some of these kids have never been the devil. Most of them haven’t, they’re too good for it. Most of them are good kids, which means they’ve never been summer scouts. Summer scouts are bad kids who need to be taught a lesson, and sometimes that lesson includes ruining them forever. It’s an effective deterrent, because the threat isn’t abstract. It’s real. You don’t want to go in summer scouts, because then there’s a chance, a possibility you’ll be ruined forever. No matter how good you try to be, it only takes one moment. The devil only ever needs one moment.

After a moment of shame you can take a seat, you can sit down in your chair at your desk and then all you have to do is not fuck up tremendously again for a few hours. Even you can do that.

* * *

You’ve gotten into the swing of the semester by now, the flow of the classes. The first person you’ll always run into in the halls is Venus. You want to talk to her, sometimes you want to drop everything and stay there and talk to her. You can’t, though, because there’s only four minutes between classes.

The two of you walk along silently, side-by-side, so careful not to allow even a fleeting moment of touch, an accidental tapping of one hand on another. It’s happened before, and one mistake is already too many, but maybe you can justify yourself in the end, if one day God asks you to redeem yourself, and you can just say “I tried.” It would be nice if trying hard was all it took, but it isn’t, and you know it isn’t. You tried hard, and you became the devil, and everyone knows it, especially God.

Venus looks at you with eyes that peer deep within you, eyes that see beyond what there is to see of you, into your hollow interior. She looks you up and down and then stares at her feet, like she’s guilty, like she knew it was wrong. Maybe she hoped against hope that she’d see something different this time.

“Do you resent us?” Venus asks softly. “Me and Neptune.”

You can’t help but crack a smile, and it hurts.

“No…?”

Venus scrunches up her face, like she just bit into a lemon. “But… why not?”

“Why would I?” you fire back. Your eyes dart from one wall of lockers to another. Anywhere but Venus.

“We… we’re literally responsible.” She sighs. “We could have just ignored it and waited until morning like you said. We could’ve supported you, and we didn’t, because it’s our job to fight the devil.”

You nod. “Right. I don’t blame you for doing your job.” How could you? It was good of them. It was the right thing to do.

Venus looks like her heart is going to fall out of her chest, like she’s going to fall to her knees and sob. “We… we CHOSE to be distant from you. We chose to push you away, and then fight you, and hurt you. Doesn’t that make you mad? How can it NOT make you mad? Your whole life is ruined because we couldn’t, even one time, decide not to fight the devil.”

You snap a hair tie against your wrist. “You’re supposed to, though.” It’s so simple, so matter-of-fact, so obvious to you.

Venus smiles like she’s in terrible pain. The kind of pain where it hurts so badly that the only thing you can do is smile and laugh and find it funny. “Can’t you… can’t you even be a little bit upset with us? Just once? Just for the most important thing in your life?”

You shrug. “I’ll… try? I don’t know why you would want that though.”

She looks at you meekly, then back down at her feet. “Maybe it will make me feel better. Maybe it’s easier to hurt someone when they get mad about it, instead of just… letting you step on them.”

You can’t help but smile again. “Are you saying I… need to make it easier on you?”

Venus is smiling too, but it’s obvious she’s sad. “I… I guess not. You don’t owe us that.”

You’re silent for a little bit, and you stop at the door outside your next class. You hesitate for a moment before speaking.

“Then… I don’t think I’ll be mad, if that’s okay.”

Venus looks like she’s biting her tongue before she finally speaks, looking at you one last time before turning and walking onward down the hall. “Yes you will,” she says. “You’ll just be mad at you, instead of us. And that’s worse.”

* * *

After that passing moment, you don’t get to see Neptune or Venus for the rest of the day, until your lunch break. That’s too bad, on the one hand, because they’re basically the only people who still like you, or whose gaze doesn’t hurt, doesn’t feel like divine judgment. It’s also bad, though, because they make you feel a way you’re not supposed to feel. They make the devil in you happy, and you can see it in them sometimes too. And that’s the worst of all. It means you’re dragging them down with you.

You never thought you could be this bad. Bad enough to be the devil, sure. But not bad enough to ruin the lives of your friends. Was helping Venus come out a bad thing? Did that let in a little more of the devil? Or maybe God can look past this one, just this once, if he sees how good it is, sees how happy it makes her. She deserves that much, doesn’t she?

“Why are you still around me,” you mumble half-heartedly between bites of your sandwich. It’s almost an accident.

“Because I’m a bitch and you let me bully you,” Neptune says without looking up from her phone. Her fingers are typing something at speeds you can’t follow.

You chuckle a little, an uncomfortable smile glued to your face. “No… I mean it, though. You know I’ll drag you down, right? Both of you?”

“I don’t think so,” Venus says, using a plastic knife to gently shove some of the food on her plate into neat little categories. She always does this, plays with her food for some reason, and wastes enough time that she has to scarf it all down during the last few minutes of the lunch block.

“If you think you’re, like, making us more sinful or whatever, you aren’t.” Neptune finishes typing up something and sets her phone face-up on the table. “I was a dirty sinful lesbian before I ever met you,” she says, and she smirks.

“And you helped me a lot,” Venus says, looking up from her tiny project to meet your gaze. “You helped me realize who I was, and now I… feel better. About myself. Even just a little bit.”

You snap a hair tie against your wrist. “You’d have never guessed I was the same way, right?” you mumble through a pained smile. Venus shrugs, and there’s silence for awhile.

Neptune’s phone buzzes, and she picks it back up.

“I made a real big mistake with that, I think,” you finally say. “A really silly choice. I chose to be a girl but then I went and had to be in love with girls, too. And I can’t do anything about that. I was already hiding everything, even from God. But that, that part I can’t hide. So I at least keep my hands to myself. I hope maybe that’s enough.”

Both of their eyes are on you now, and they hurt. Their gaze hurts in a different way from the others’. It’s like they want to close the distance that they never could, that they never should. And you know they want to, and it hurts to hurt them like that. You snap a hair tie against your wrist.

Neither of them seem to know what to say, and you figure you probably shouldn’t have dragged the conversation down so much. You wait in agonizing silence for the lunch bell to ring again and put an end to your silent misery, put an end to those sympathetic eyes on you.

You want more than anything to have been good. It kills you in every moment you think about it. It’s the only thing you’ve ever really wanted. And yet something in you just can’t seem to stop being bad. Every time you think you’ve figured out the key, something happens. One more temptation, one more vice, one more call to sin. Maybe the devil has been playing tricks on you your whole life. It feels a little unfair.

“You’re good enough for us,” Venus says finally, as if reading your mind. “You’re always good enough for us.” You can’t even look at her.

“Then you don’t know what good enough is. And you deserve better.” You stare intently at the empty tabletop in front of you, determinedly avoiding their gaze. You won’t let them say anything, or do anything. You can’t let them convince you otherwise. Everything bad has happened when you started allowing yourself to think you might be good.

The bell rings after a little while longer, and you thank God for the small mercy that it did. What you deserve right now isn’t the comfort or consolation of friends, you’ll only drag them down with you. You ought to be alone, focus on your sins, and suffer in private silence. Maybe that will build character, maybe it’ll save you.

* * *

With your right-hand pointer finger, you trace the line along your left wrist, an indent made by your hair tie. Not long ago, another one broke. After awhile, they wear thin, and if they break, you have to replace them. The snap of a new hair tie stings more, and feels more vivid. You wish it didn’t get dulled over time the way it did.

Your right arm stings, too. Fresh scars run along your forearm, a layer of dried blood coating them, chips of it coming off. They’re bigger gashes than any others in recent memory. For the first time since last summer, your mother came to see you. You’ve been particularly upset with yourself.

You wonder if you ever could have been good, or if you’d always be ruined eventually. If there was some chance you just missed out on, some secret trick that the other kids know, some magic rule that keeps your heart pure. Maybe just thinking that way is proof. Maybe the only people searching for a magic formula to be good are people whose hearts are already bad.

You think about killing yourself a lot more lately, which is probably bad in its own right. But once you’ve been the devil, there’s only so much bad that can accumulate, right? Suicide is a sin, too, but if you’re already a sinner, one more little sin isn’t going to change much. You’ll end up in hell all the same. It’s just faster.

Those thoughts don’t amount to much, though. You don’t have the guts to hang yourself or toss yourself off a building. Even when the chance arrives, you know it isn’t going to happen. It’s an escape, a fantasy, a thought of what could be. But it isn’t ever that simple. No one in this world gets out easy, the devil doesn’t just bring you home once he has his hands on you. You’ll continue to live on and keep doing bad, you figure. You’ll be a devil the whole way through.

You really  _ should _ just be dead. You should have been dead a long time ago, and you’re still here. Purposeless, pointless, just taking up space and eating up resources and wasting everyone’s time. If you were really good, you’d have died a long time ago. Now you have to look your dad in the face every morning and see the sadness behind his expression, and just press on, knowing it’s all in vain. Everybody is pretending, thinking you can’t see through it. Even you.

You want to be good. You want to be good so badly, so fucking badly. It blurs your vision and grabs at your arms, claws that pierce your skin and grip you tight, that scream into your face. It isn’t a possibility to be good anymore. But your body is tearing itself apart trying to do it anyway. It simply hurts too much to have tried for so long and to have failed in the end in spectacular fashion. It’s the same as if you hadn’t tried at all.

You’re tired, too. Exhausted. Your sleep schedule has only gotten worse. You’re up early every morning, and you can’t sleep at night. Too many nightmares, too much pain, too hard to risk even a second of being alone with your thoughts trying to rest. But your exhaustion is catching up with you. There’s still homework to be done by the end of the week, and a backlog of work that you forgot about. On top of that, tomorrow is another full day. You’ve got a group project still coming up. Practices for soccer will be heating up as the semester gets further in. Balancing it all isn’t really possible, but it should be. If you were smarter, more responsible, you’d be able to do it.

Against your leg, you feel a sudden presence, a sudden warmth, and on instinct you jolt away. You didn’t feel the fingers of a hand, though. It was soft. Furry. A small gray tabby cat looks up at you with what you could swear is an expression of concern even though it’s almost definitely just confusion.

You sigh, and give a tired smile. “Hey, Callisto.” The words tumble out of your mouth, raspy and weak. The cat, for her part, seems satisfied at her name, rubbing gently against your leg again.

“Hungry?” You push forward weakly. You should have fed her earlier. That would have been responsible of you. Just one more task that you let slip your mind, one more forgotten thing. Along with that pile of laundry in the corner of your room and the dirt and dust gathering on the floor you haven’t cleaned in far too long. It wouldn’t even be hard to do it. You’re just seemingly incapable of getting anything done.

You reach down to your bed, slipping the hair tie back around your wrist, and snap it one time against your skin for good measure. It stings, but it feels right. It’s the kind of pain you deserve.

It only takes about a minute to fetch Callisto’s wet food from the fridge, heat it, and give it to her. You clean off the knife in the sink and re-seal the rest of the food before returning it to the fridge. All of this is only slightly impeded by her incessant rubbing against everything in sight, a desperate need to jump out in front of your feet with every step, and an utter refusal to let you set the food dish on the floor of your room.

You watch as she happily devours the food, and turn back to your bed. The boxcutter and bloody napkins still lay strewn about across your covers, and you slowly begin to gather them up to be thrown away. You never got good with bandaging, and you didn’t want to treat the wounds too gently, at the risk that they’d heal too cleanly. So in years of self-harm, you’ve kept the same level of ignorance as when you started. Just like always, just like everything. You’re not even good at hurting yourself. It’s almost impressive.

It’s nearly an eternity later when you’re done, and you don’t have it in you to shower, to prepare at all for bed. You simply take off your jacket, slide off your jeans and bury yourself beneath the covers, clutching your pillow so tight. You cling to it like it could slip away with the slightest lenience, desperately trying to remember the feeling of touch, trying to picture Neptune’s face, or Venus’, and trying to make them smile instead of frown.

You don’t know how such a desperate, terrible struggle can calm you down enough to fall asleep, but like clockwork, you finally pass out.

* * *

Venus comes up to you after classes, a spring in her step, practically dancing at you. She begins to reach out to take your hand, but you jolt through your whole body, and she steps back. You snap a hair tie against your wrist.

She smiles at you, warmer than you could ever deserve. “I talked to Neptune earlier,” she explains. “About making the sleepovers a regular thing. What do you think?”

You look down at your feet, and there’s a static in your head. That’s too close, too intimate. You don’t want to taint them. You don’t want to hurt them any further than you already have. You’re bad. You’re so, so bad.

She looks at you, sadness behind her vibrant eyes. “Please,” she says softly. “We want you around. I promise.” Even as she says that, you can feel the immeasurable gap. It has always been wide. You’ve always been distant. You had to be. It’s a part of who you are.

“I’m bad,” you squeak out. You want to be blunt, just a little cruel, just so there’s no chance she’ll ask again. If she keeps asking, you don’t think you’ll be able to keep saying no. “You shouldn’t want to be around me.”

Venus smiles and looks down at her feet. “Then maybe I’m stupid,” she says. “Because I still do.”

She looks at you cautiously, and takes one careful, deliberate step toward you. Your whole body shudders just a bit, but you accept it. Maybe that’s bad of you.

“I’m bad too,” she says. “I’m not very nice sometimes, even if it’s by accident. I’ve hurt people because I just… don’t understand people.” She looks embarrassed, holding her left forearm with her right hand. “I make a lot of mistakes. I make it hard to be around me. But that’s okay, right? I’m still… worth something, aren’t I?”

“Maybe,” you say with a shrug. “Maybe you’re a little bad. I don’t think it’s fair to expect everyone to be perfectly good. I think if God did that, he’d be disappointed in everyone, right? It would just be really mean, like tripping someone up at the start.”

She looks at you, and her eyes drill holes in your skin. You snap a hair tie against your wrist. “The fact is…” your tone is low, uncertain even of your own words as you say them. “You’re still much better than me. No matter how bad you think you are.”

And she looks frustrated, and her right hand clenches and unclenches at her jeans. “Why?” There’s pain in her voice. “Why are you so bad, do you think? How can someone who cares so much about being good be so much worse than everyone else who doesn’t?”

You smile, and it hurts. You snap a hair tie against your wrist. “Yeah,” you say. “I don’t know. It kinda hurts. Actually, it hurts a lot.” And you shrug. “But that’s just what happened. I guess, like, it was always in the cards for me? Or something like that.”

Venus bites her lip for a moment, like she’s looking for words. Like she’s losing ground. “I don’t get it,” she says.

You shrug. “There’s nothing really to say. It’s too bad, but it’s true. It’s true that I’m bad, and true that you shouldn’t be around me. Maybe it hurts to accept. And I’m sorry about that, too.”

“Stop apologizing,” her tone is filled with pain and hurt and a small but righteous anger. “You think you’re so bad but you’re trying harder than anyone else every day. You try more than literally anyone and you still get kicked in the face. Things still go wrong for you. And you STILL want to be good. You’re still trying so hard to be good, even though you’ve lost so much, you’ve been burnt this badly.”

You smile. “You’re wrong,” you say with a sigh. You snap a hair tie against your wrist. “You don’t see it. I know what I’m talking about. No matter what my excuse is, I could still be better than I am. Maybe I’ve got a lot on my plate, maybe the game was rigged against me, maybe I’m working hard in vain, because the devil already got his hands on me. But it doesn’t mean I’ve got an excuse.”

Venus looks at you, and there’s pity in her expression, and it kind of hurts. It’s like she’s taking in everything about you, every weakness, every flaw. She sees it all.

“I wish I was dead,” you squeak out, just to fill the silence. You can feel the tears forming in your eyes, streaming down your face. “Instead of having to suffer like this.”

It looks like Venus wants to close the gap, but she won’t. She’s good. She wouldn’t betray you like that. She doesn’t want to push you too far. You wish she would.

“I promise just one more sleepover won’t ruin us,” she says softly, a half-smile as she tries to reason out something that will still work. “If you really hate it, we’ll let you go and never ask you to come again.”

You won’t hate it. That’s the problem. You’ll want to stay with them. And the idea that they’ll reject you and go on with it alone hurts just as bad. Is it selfish, wanting to taint them just to not be left out? It’s probably one of the worst, most sinful things you could do.

“Okay,” you force out, a tiny strained whisper of a word. Venus smiles at you and she nods, and she slowly begins to walk, like she wants you to follow. You want to follow, too. But you’ve got to meet up with some of the other kids, for a group project. You’ve got stuff to do, still. You can’t just give up on that.

* * *

You’re sitting on the wall above the sidewalk outside the school. Normally Neptune doesn’t like the hassle of climbing all the way up there, but she did it today, probably because she knows you like it up there, and she feels bad for you.

“So you’re coming, right?” Her words are sharp. Her eyes don’t look up from her phone for a second.

“I… yeah.” Your hand twitches a bit on the side of the wall. “I… um. I said I’d go once, and just see.”

That’s enough to get her to look up, and glare at you. You immediately force a nervous smile, on instinct. “See what?” she prods. “See if you still like us?” And she smirks, but there’s a little annoyance in it. You snap a hair tie against your wrist.

“No, not… that. Just… see if it’s good, if it’s right to do.” You smile meekly at her, a silent plea to treat you gently. You know she won’t buy this, after all. And you just wish she would, to make it easier. But you’re kind of glad she doesn’t.

“Stop it,” she says, a command. There’s a barely-restrained fury in her tone, like you’ve said something she really hates. “Stop trying so hard. It’s painful to watch, you’re fucking miserable and you can’t even admit it because you think being upset is some kind of moral failing.”

You snap a hair tie against your wrist. Only weak protests find your lips. 

“No, I mean… I…”

She cuts you off, slapping a hand down on the hard cement of the wall. “You already failed! You can stop now! For the love of god just stop trying so hard!”

And there’s silence. You can’t help but smile in that painful way. Neptune immediately recoils, like she said too much. But she’s right, you figure, at least kind of.

“Haha… you’re right,” you say, trying to keep a light and jovial tone to mask the pain of it. “It is kinda stupid. I mean, what do I have to prove, right? They all know who I really am now.”

“No, Jupiter, it’s not what I…” she lowers her head, letting out something like a growl. “I just want you to see how bullshit this all is. You’re fucking killing yourself for no reason, for a bunch of assholes.”

You tug the sleeve of your jacket. “It’s okay,” you mutter. “It really is. I can handle it, so don’t worry about it…”

“God, shut up,” she spits, a little angry but full of passion, full of genuine desire. It’s like she’s overflowing with emotion, like it’s dripping off of her. “Why are you so selfish? Why do you only care about yourself?”

You scoot back a bit. “I’m… sorry? I don’t get it though…”

She sighs, and holds her head in her hands for a second, before looking back up at you. “Do you think Venus and I  _ like _ seeing you dying? Do you think we just… don’t care when we see you and you’re exhausted, and forcing a fucking smile even though someone else just dragged you into something you didn’t deserve, and you did it anyway because you hate yourself so much and think overworking all the time is gonna make you like yourself more?”

You chuckle a bit, involuntarily. You snap a hair tie against your wrist. “I’m sorry, Neptune.”

“No,” she says. “Fuck off with that. Don’t just keep apologizing and continuing to do this. I’m sick of watching it.” She sighs, and looks like she’s searching for words for a moment. “You keep trying to be so good… don’t you get it? The world would destroy you, it wouldn’t care. It would burn you, completely, and have you be gone, and wouldn’t think twice about it. It’s not gonna stop to mourn you or say how close you came, or what a shame it is. They’re not gonna think about how hard they made it for you. All they’ll know is that you didn’t do good enough. They won’t stop to ask why. And they won’t be proud of you if you make it either. They’ll say ‘anyone could do that’. Lots of people do, after all, don’t they? So they’ll keep pushing you. Until they get everything out of you that you have to give. And they won’t so much as say thanks.”

On some level, you recognize all of that is true. You’ve always kind of known it is, you’re not  _ that _ stupid. But it isn’t easy to just give up on it, either. What other options do you have? You just keep smiling at her, that same stupid uncomfortable smile you give when you don’t know what to say.

There’s a silence for awhile.

“I know you think I’m mean,” Neptune finally says. She’s looking down at her feet, and her face looks like she’s hurting. That’s probably your fault, too. “But I could be so much meaner. I hold back, and I could be so much worse. So that should count for something, even if it looks like nothing.”

You nod. “I appreciate it…” you mumble. You want to scoot just a little closer, but you shouldn’t. You snap a hair tie against your wrist.

“On some level I  _ do _ want to protect you,” she says, gritting her teeth for just a moment. “I want to help. I don’t know, make it easier. But this world is bullshit, Jupiter, you have to know that.”

You nod, and you smile, and maybe this time it’s a little earnest. “I’m trying a lot,” you say. “It’s already not enough… I have to do more, to prove it. To prove I’m really trying, and giving it my all.”

Neptune shakes her head, and sighs. “It’s only going to get harder from here, if you keep trying to appease them. It’ll be even harder to be good.” She grins, and looks at you. “Wanna give up? There’s still a chance to drop the good kid act and become a total bitch like me.”

You laugh a little, and it’s earnest. “I’m okay,” you say. And you smile, a little warmer. You let yourself scoot just a bit toward her. “And I… don’t think you’re a bitch, either.”

“Oh my god,” she says, giving a big smile as she looks at you, laughter escaping her. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said that. It sounded so fucking weird.”

You laugh. “Did it? I guess so.”

She smirks and leans forward, toward you. “Oh no, look at this. I’m corrupting you already. You’ll be an evil dirty slut before you know it.”

And that makes you laugh, too. It feels good to be like this, and you almost forgot. But you forgot for a reason. This is what led to the devil taking you, isn’t it? This kind of thing, dropping your guard long enough and having a little fun.

“I’m not going to stop trying to be good,” you say finally, a quiet and firm declaration. It’s not directed at Neptune, not as much as it is just reassuring yourself.

She looks like she wants to say something, but she can’t, so she just goes back to her phone. That hurts in a weird way, feels like you’ve disappointed her. You kick your feet against the side of the wall. When your leg crashes back against the wall, there’s a little chaos in that collision. You like it a little.

* * *

You all enter Venus’ house in the same awkward manner as before. There’s the taking off of shoes and setting them aside where there’s room, the weird fumbling around and keeping your distance and trying to reconcile the intimacy of being in another person’s house.

There’s a nice patio right at the entrance. It’s a little cluttered, but that’s the way every patio you’ve ever seen has been, so at this point you figure that’s part of the purpose. In the corner, there are some LEGO sets, and it makes you smile a bit to imagine Venus building those intricate structures in no time at all. It’s just like her.

You all slip inside, and you make the beeline to Venus’ bedroom, because it’s quiet. It’s set up in a nice way for games, with the head of her bed against the far wall, room on either side for sleeping bags or mattresses, and a carpet right by the foot of her bed with room for all three of you to sit. On the left wall from her bed, by the door, there’s a wide closet. It’s usually closed, but you’ve seen her open it. Just a lot of shirts and jackets and a few more LEGO boxes shoved into the corners.

Resting at the head of her bed, in a place of honor, is the plush cat she’d given you to sleep with before. As you all enter, she sits and takes it, and cradles it gently in her arms.

“You know, back when I was younger, I invited a friend over. He didn’t… think stuffed animals were cool, so I was trying to impress him, I guess. When he came into my room, I pretended I didn’t know why my kitty here was on my bed, and I tossed her aside.” She smiles, a little hurt. “I don’t know why I wanted to impress him so bad, but I never forget about that memory.”

You nod along, but Neptune chimes in first. “That’s dumb,” she says, without even looking up from her phone. “He’s dumb.” She finishes whatever text she was writing and closes it, holding the phone against her waist. “You want me advice? Fuck ‘im.”

Venus laughs, and it’s light as air. “Yeah,” she says. “I’m glad I don’t have friends like that anymore.” And she smiles sweetly at both of you. You snap a hair tie against your wrist.

“Yeah, we’re just awful in different ways,” Neptune says with a smirk, before looking at you with a little concern. You smile pathetically. It’s okay, you figure. You can handle a little joke. It’s not even like she’s wrong.

Your phone buzzes, and you fish it out of your jacket pocket. It’s that group again, for one of your science classes. There’s a pretty big project coming up, you’ll have to prepare a video presentation. Video presentations suck. You kind of hate being filmed.

You’d taken a few days off from school, and hadn’t gotten a group, so theirs had taken you in. It was just the two of them, and they were a little notorious for being lazy, but you needed a group, and they were there, and you’re grateful they took you.

You sigh, and look over at Neptune and Venus. “They wanna meet… tomorrow morning.” You smile, and you can suddenly feel a wave of exhaustion washing over you. Another early morning.

“Tell them to go fuck themselves, you’re hanging out with us,” Neptune offers. “Wait, want me to text them for you? Oh, give me their numbers, I’ll say we’ve got you held hostage.”

You smile, but raise a hand in protest. “Uh, n-no, it’s… it’s okay, really.” Your legs suddenly feel weak, and you drop down onto the carpet, sitting cross-legged. “I can figure something out.”

Venus looks at you with a crooked expression, and Neptune glares at you. “Jupiter,” she says. “I’m gonna kill you.”

You just force a grin, and pat the space in front of you. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Want to, uh… play a game for now?”

Neptune sighs, and shrugs, and sits down across from you. “Fine, as long as it’s not Uno again. That game is like, the actual worst.”

Venus chuckles. “Worse than Monopoly?”

And Neptune groans, but she smiles. “Oh, god, maybe.”

You can’t help but smile too, even though that lingering thought is eating at the back of your head like a parasite. There’s always more to do, and you’re always too useless to do it well. It’s a shame it’ll impact your ability to have fun, but you never really deserved that time anyway. Besides, staying busy keeps the devil away. The more you think about what needs to get done, the less time you spend indulging those bad, impure thoughts.

But you already know it. You can’t hide it, and you can’t forget. You’re the devil. Even though it left you physically, your heart still isn’t in it. You still aren’t pure, aren’t good. And you ought to never let yourself believe that you are.

* * *

There are so many things you could have been. So many people. In infinite lifetimes, there are so many better people you could have become than the one you are now. You had so many options, once. You’ve fallen pretty far, though. You’re pretty sure you’re already tainted beyond repair. It hurts a lot to know that, but it’s something you have to live with.

There’s somebody else wonderful you could have been, if only. A hero, a leader, a good person. You can’t be any of those things anymore.

It’s a strange limbo you find yourself in. There’s enough distance from the incident that the worst of it has faded. In the weeks after you returned from summer scouts, it was the worst it had ever been. You spent days at a time in your room, destroying yourself. Bleeding yourself dry and crying into your pillow, sleeping only when the exhaustion became too much to bear. The memory hasn’t left, but that level of desperation doesn’t stay forever. After awhile, you inevitably move on in some ways. But you don’t want to. You never want to forget that exact feeling, as if it were yesterday. You don’t deserve to forget, you don’t deserve to move on. You’re the devil. That will never change. So why should you ever get to feel better about it?

You’ve tried to keep working hard, sometimes as a distraction, but mostly as a punishment. You don’t deserve to die quietly after what you’ve put everyone through. You ought to be dragged through a life of pain and misery for it all.

Your eyes snap open, and the static in your head clears just enough to realize something is wrong, something is off…

“Oh!” Venus leans down and her face is right in front of yours, inches away. Your whole body jolts for a moment, but you don’t move away. She smiles at you. “She’s awake!”

You squirm a bit until you can get yourself upright, sitting cross-legged on the floor. You must have passed out at some point, during one of the games, probably during one of the rounds after you lost…

Neptune is chuckling, and she leans down to look at you too, before sliding into a seated position next to you. “Well, about time. Hey sleepyhead. We knew you weren’t gonna make it the whole night. You were a fucking wreck.”

You run a hand through your hair, and it’s gross. “What did… uh… what happened?” There’s so much guilt in your voice, dripping out of your tone. They both just smile at you, why would they just smile?

“I called it right after the first game,” Neptune explains, shrugging and giving you a smug look that kinda should irritate you, or kinda should be upsetting, but it actually just makes you feel weird. “You kept laying down on your side, and you kept assuring us you weren’t going to pass out, but like, come on.” She shakes her head. “You were out like a light after, what, the second round?” She laughs a little. “You were playing like shit, too.”

You lean to one side, a little uncomfortable, a little confused, still definitely disoriented. “I don’t get it,” you mumble. There’s gorgginess in your voice, and it sounds stupid, and awful. You clear your throat and immediately regret it. You flinch, and keep your mouth covered with one hand.

“We decided not to disturb you until you woke up on your own,” Venus offers, a little bit of pity at your clear confusion. “It seemed like… you’ve been working really hard lately, and we didn’t wanna disturb you.”

You move your hands around the space, making sure everything is real and material and right. “Um… thanks. And sorry.”

Your head is still spinning, the world around you still doesn’t feel right, doesn’t feel true or real. You keep your eyes fixated on their faces, looking between them. Neptune and Venus, they’re here, they’re real. It’s comforting to know that, but it shouldn’t be.

“What time… is it.” You fish your phone out of your jacket pocket and check, but Neptune reads it aloud first anyway. Around 10pm. Somehow, that’s both earlier and later than you’d thought.

“There’s still plenty of time to play games,” Venus offers meekly, giving you a little smile that feels forced. “If you want to.”

You nod, and snap a hair tie against your wrist. “Okay,” you say, half assuring yourself. You give a half-hearted nod that almost knocks the consciousness right out of you again. “Okay, let’s do that.”

And Venus’ face lights up, and she stands and rushes over to the drawers of her bedside table, fishing for something.

“God, is this all we’re gonna do?” Neptune asks. “Play games until we pass out every weekend until we all die?”

Venus pokes her head back out from her intense search of the drawer. “Why?” she asks. “Do you not want to? We could do something else, watch a movie, or… something.”

Neptune sighs and shakes her head. “No, no, it’s not that, don’t get all fucking sad on me. You’re like a wounded puppy.” She waves her hand in the air. “I was just thinking…” she looks at you for a moment, and you tilt your head, and look away, and snap a hair tie against your wrist. “Nothing.”

* * *

“I literally cannot believe you turned that around,” Neptune says, flipping out her phone lightning-fast to start scrolling at something.

Venus giggles, and leans back from where she’s sitting. “Does that mean you don’t like this game?” It’s clear in her voice that she’s having fun.

Neptune smirks. “Well, whatever. At least I have a better win record than Jupiter.” And she looks at you. “Have you even won once yet?”

You lean back a bit, on instinct, and give a nervous smile. You avoid eye contact. “Uh, yeah, didn’t I? I won one, didn’t I?”

“Incredible,” Neptune says, grinning. “Phenomenal. I’m blown away. How do you do it? What’s your secret?”

You shrug, smiling weakly a little. “It’s uh, natural talent?”

Venus chuckles. “I think it’s because you insisted on running that one card that forces you to roll dice,” she says. “I don’t think that one is very good.” She begins gathering up all the cards scattered between you all. When she’s done, she holds them all, looking a little solemn.

“You know, that’s actually my first time ever playing this with someone else,” she says. “No one I knew really knew how to play. Or, uh, the people who did… didn’t really like me.” She looks away, smiling a little sadly. “I really was a lonely kid.”

“It’s because you weren’t really you back then,” Neptune says with a dismissive shrug. “And that sucks. And it kinda still sucks.” She smiles too. “The whole world is kinda shit like that.”

Venus wipes a sleeve against her eyes, and nods. “Yeah.” She looks down, idly shifting her fingers through the cards. “I feel… so much pain… so gross, so ugly, looking at this body… I wish at least my words were beautiful so my ugliness could have some purpose, some charm, some reason to be around.” Both of your eyes are on her now. She looks up to meet your gaze for just an instant, and it hurts.

“I’m happy that you both… accepted me,” she says, a quiet whisper that can still be heard among your silence. “I really am. I get to feel a little freer.” She’s quiet for a moment, searching for words. “Maybe it’s selfish, but… it doesn’t feel like enough? I still don’t want this body…”

She holds a hand in front of her face, feeling against her cheek. “It’s not right. It isn’t mine. It was made for someone else, and it’s like I stole it from them. I don’t know whose it is, but I wish they would take it back.”

Neptune looks at her for awhile, until it’s clear she doesn’t have anything else to say, and then she looks at you. You snap a hair tie against your wrist.

If you were good, maybe you’d say something really hard here. Maybe you’d say God made Venus like this, and it’s so wrong to try and betray that. But those words feel so sick in your head, much less on your tongue. They’re like a poison, and you can’t say them. Not to Venus. You don’t need to, anyway. The devil doesn’t need to worry about being righteous.

You search for the right words for awhile. “It’s not so easy, right?” You smile weakly. It’s forced. It hurts. “We’re not so lucky to just magically spawn an answer to all our problems. We don’t live in that reality.” You reach down and twist your hair tie around your forearm, adjusting it. “It has to be slow. One thing at a time. And that’s awful. There isn’t one moment, that one moment. There are so many agonizing moments.”

Venus nods, and bites her lower lip for a minute, like she’s hesitating, but she just can’t help her own curiosity. “Was it… hard for you?” she finally asks.

You grit your teeth, and shut your eyes tight. You try not to remember, but those feelings are with you even now. You know how it feels and you hate it. “I kind of gave up after awhile,” you manage to get out, your voice breathy and pathetic.

“For what it’s worth?” Neptune adds. She isn’t looking up from her phone. “I think you’re cooler for it. It’s just… better. More like you.” She slides it away, and looks at Venus. “It wouldn’t suit you, though.” She smirks. “No offense.”

Venus chuckles a little, but there’s still obvious hurt in it. “What do you think I’ll be like once I get past it?” she asks, almost pleading for an answer that will make all the hurt worth it. You know the feeling a little too well.

“Oh, honestly? You’ll kick ass.” Neptune smiles at her, and leans in. “I can see it now. You start getting more confident, pick up some new clothes… you can dress like a slut and act like a bitch, it’ll be GREAT.” And she cracks up a little, laughing. “I mean it.”

Venus laughs a little too, and forces a weak smile. “Honestly, I kinda hope so.” She grins, and it’s a bit more honest. “That sounds… pretty fun.”

Neptune smirks too. “See? You’re already getting there.”

You try to smile too. “What about you, Neptune?” you offer.

“Me? What about me? I’m already perfect.” She looks at you with a smile, and gives a little pose. “Unlike you nerds, I already accepted what a bitch I am and I’m so much cooler for it. Just look at me.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. You make it look so easy, too. How do you do it?”

She’s still smiling, but she gives a sigh, looks a little injured. You snap a hair tie against your wrist.

“Honestly?” she says, and her voice is a little shaky, and it’s not like anything you’ve ever heard from Neptune before. It makes you a little uncomfortable.

“It wasn’t easy. Not at all. Actually, I probably never would have.” She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling, looking at it intently with a scowl. “But I couldn’t just pretend it wasn’t part of me, that was fucked up. But…” she sighs. “It got so bad I couldn’t take it. It wasn’t fair to ask me to keep hiding it, and I couldn’t.”

There’s silence between you all for awhile, as you wait until she’s ready to continue. It feels like, at least for you, you’re prepared to wait years there in silence, just to hear her out.

“I tried to kill myself,” she finally says, and she doesn’t look up from her phone, but she smirks in a way that seems angry, vindictive. “I wrote a suicide note and let my family and everyone else know. I didn’t even think they’d give a shit. And I stand by it. They wouldn’t.” Her smile fades. “But obviously I’m still here, so uh, that didn’t work.”

Venus scoots a little closer to her, offering a hand, and Neptune takes it, continuing to scroll her phone with one hand. You don’t move from your spot. You can’t.

“That’s why I hate it,” Neptune says, and her voice is softer now, gentler than you’ve ever heard her speak. “It’s why I’m so fucking mean and unbearable, it’s because I see people like me back then and I hate it, I hate that they’re like that, I want to shake some fucking sense into them before they end up like me.”

You snap a hair tie against your wrist.

“…You’re not mean.” It feels like it takes an eternity to squeak those words out, but you say them.

It’s enough to get Neptune to look up, and she glares at you. “What?”

You just shrug. You can’t make eye contact. “You aren’t. You’re not mean for no reason… you’re mad. You’re mad because people hurt you and it wasn’t fair, and you’re right, that’s bullshit.”

Her voice cracks as she lets out some sort of pained laugh. “Okay, thanks, kettle.”

You shrug again, still looking away, still avoiding her face at any cost. “I’m not mad though.”

She scoots herself a little closer to you, and you scoot back. “Yeah, that’s the fucking problem. God, I’d give anything for you to be just a little bit mad one time.”

You wait a moment, keep quiet, before letting the next words come out. “Would it… make you feel better about being mad yourself, if I got mad?”

“…Are you seriously about to turn this into doing something for someone else again?” There’s an accusatory tone to it, but it’s not wrong.

“Please… just…”

She doesn’t let you finish. “Yeah,” she says. “Maybe it would.”

You let out a deep breath, but it isn’t steady. It’s like you’re panicking, but you only just noticed, only now. “Then I’ll… I’ll. I’ll let you know. I’ve, um, actually always been mad. Really mad, like… really really.” You close your eyes tightly and grip your wrists in each opposite hand. You feel a gentle hand on your leg, and you have to peek, just to make sure it’s Neptune’s, and not another one of yours. “That’s why I’m bad. Good people could do it all without getting mad. I’m just pretending.”

You keep your eyes pried tight for awhile, but eventually curiosity gets to you, and you allow yourself to look at her. She’s smiling, and her eyes are a little red, like she’s been hiding her tears from you. Or maybe you just weren’t looking.

“You’re so good,” she says, and her voice is sweet like honey. “You really are.” It almost doesn’t sound like Neptune, but at the same time it’s so distinctly her that it couldn’t be anyone else. You’d never mistake it.

There’s another silence for a minute. “I want to touch you,” she whispers. “More than this.” She looks like she’s angry, but not at you. “I can’t stand it. I want to be able to. I want to touch you.”

You snap a hair tie against your wrist. “You shouldn’t.” You try to be blunt, try to get her to go away, to back off, to stop before it’s too late. You see Venus, though, too. She’s sitting beside Neptune now, just looking at you, sad eyes that see through you.

“I do too,” she whispers. “If it’s okay. If you want it.” Her eyes are pleading, but they aren’t demanding.

Both of them are so close now.

Your voice breaks when you finally speak. “There’s not room for all of us… you have to realize it too, right? So why can’t you…”

They both look at you, a little sadness and a lot of pity, and something else too, some sort of love, some kind of sad affection. It hurts so much.

Venus looks at Neptune, and they share some silent conversation, and they look back at you. “We don’t want to, if it’s not with you,” Venus says. “I mean it.”

You snap a hair tie against your wrist. “Why would you even want to!?” you force yourself to shout, a pathetic and desperate defense against your own mounting feelings. “I’m gross.” You’re crying now, and you can feel it, feel the tears streaming down your face.

“Maybe you feel that way,” Venus whispers, holding out a hand. She’s tired of waiting. “But we don’t. I promise. And we’ll keep fighting it until you don’t feel that way either.”

You take her hand, and she pulls you in just a little closer, just a bit, and you can feel the warmth of her body. It’s foreign to you, it’s so unfamiliar but so needed. You recognize it, just a bit, and it feels every bit as good now as it did back then.

Neptune takes your other hand, and she pulls you silently into a hug, and she holds you a bit, and you feel safe. You hate it, and you hate what you’re doing to them, but it feels too good to stop now.

You’re the devil, and you’re in Venus’ house, holding close to two other girls, and you feel safe for the first time in your life.

* * *

You nestle into your sleeping bag, still uncomfortable, still unsure. Above you, Venus is settling under the covers of her bed, and on the other side of you, Neptune is doing the same on her mattress. There’s a strange tension in the air now, an uncertainty. It’s almost as though you can feel the devil in the air again, and you hate that.

You want to be touched by them, but you can’t. You want to feel the warmth of another person, but that’s so bad. It’s so tempting, though. It’s probably tempting because it’s bad. Still, you’ve had a taste, and you hate it, because you want more. You need to push away, to become more distant, but you’re too weak to. When they’re right there, you have no other choice but to think about it, to want it. There’s not enough space, not enough distance in the whole world. There is no gap wide enough for you to be comfortable, no gap wide enough for your hunger not to close it.

It’s late now, too late for your liking. Your eyes are barely able to stay open, but your vision is glued to your phone. Alarm set. Tomorrow morning at 9am. It hurts just to look at it, you already feel the preemptive exhaustion.

“Don’t tell me you’re still set on meeting with them tomorrow,” comes Neptune’s voice from the other side of the bed. You can’t help but smile a little. Without even looking, she knows you that well.

“It’s all my own fault,” you call back. “I went and celebrated too hard, and as a direct result of that I suffered. I should have just been responsible.”

“That’s not fair,” comes Venus’ voice, meek as she pokes her head out over the side of her bed to look at you. It really is difficult to escape her sight. “So you’re just never supposed to have any fun?”

You shake your head, and force another tired smile. “I can’t skip out on my responsibilities. It isn’t fair to everyone else. They’re all working hard too, probably even harder than me.” You lean your head back. It isn’t soft, but you’re so tired it doesn’t even matter. You could sleep on a bunch of rocks.

“You’re supposed to be having fun,” Neptune says, no shortage of poison in her tone, dripping off every syllable. “Not running yourself ragged and adding more stress to your life. Fucking chill, for once.”

You lean onto one side, and already your eyes are forcing themselves shut. “I’m sorry,” you say, as loud as you can, which isn’t very loud at all. “I should have been more responsible. I didn’t mean to ruin the sleepover, too.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” a light voice mumbles back, Venus this time. “I just feel bad if you’re not having fun. This is supposed to be fun for all of us.”

You hold yourself in your arms, as best you can. You try to cradle your body in itself, try and contain yourself, but it isn’t right. That feeling that left you doesn’t just come back, but you crave it.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper again, so softly and carefully it’s likely neither of them could hear it. “Goodnight.”

* * *

“I am going to hunt them down and murder them, Jupiter.” Neptune is pacing back and forth, clearly antsy, clearly annoyed. Her voice is echoing throughout the now-empty field just outside the school. “I’m actually going to hunt them for sport. After all that they didn’t even fucking show!?”

You try your best to smile and laugh it off. “Yeah, it’s… frustrating, but there’s not much I can do about it. They said last minute they couldn’t show up, so there wasn’t much I could really do. We needed all three of us to be there, so… I just had to go home.”

She glares at you. “After waking up early.” You nod. “And ruining your fucking sleep schedule.” You nod. “On the fucking WEEKEND, the one time you’re supposed to be able to fucking rest!”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “Please don’t be mad.”

She grips her head in her hands for a moment and pauses, coughing into her arm for a moment. “I’m not mad at you,” she grumbles.

“You are mad, though.” You push yourself to smile, pathetic as it is, just to assure her you don’t mean it personally. You don’t want to risk upsetting her. “And you don’t have to be. Or maybe like, you shouldn’t have to be?”

She takes a step toward you, and you recoil for a moment, flinching before settling into it. “Listen to me,” she says, sighing. “If you’re not gonna be angry for yourself, someone else fucking has to be. You’d literally let someone sell your fucking organs if you weren’t friends with the meanest bitch around to scare them off,” and she smirks at that.

“Do you… not like having to get mad, for me?” The question only just occurred to you, and you can already feel the guilt creeping down your spine. It hurts.

“Hm,” she hums to herself, stepping back and taking a seat on the bleachers, crossing one leg over the other. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s fun to be the nasty mean girl who doesn’t take anyone’s shit. Of course that’s fun.” And her smile drops, and she looks like she’s thinking. “But I am scared. I am, okay? I don’t want… being angry to be all I am. I don’t want being mean to be the only thing I ever get to be.” She looks irritated, a little bitter, and no small part of that is your fault, but you try to push through.

You take a hesitant step in her direction, and take a seat on the bleachers too, next to her. Too close to her, and too far from her.

“You’re not mean,” you say again, as if it’ll be different this time. You hope so badly it will be. “You’re so kind. You just…” you try to make eye contact, and you almost fail, but the tears forming in your eyes obfuscate it enough to make it impossible.

“You care so much,” you say, now nothing more than a whimper. “You act cool, and uh, you are cool, but you… you care. You try harder than everyone else, it’s just different because you’re not playing their game. You’ve taken care of us. You’ve protected us and you’ve stood up for us and you’ve been strong for us. You’ve been a storm for us…” you wipe your tears on the sleeve of your jacket. Gross.

“I love you…” you whisper, almost silent, almost to nobody. Maybe that way you can still fool God. But you don’t know if you want to anymore.

“I love you so much,” you say a bit louder.

“Is that something anyone could’ve said about anybody?” She fires back with a smirk, but you can see the tears in her eyes and the gentle shuddering of her forearms too, the shaking of a house just touched by the storm.

“No,” you say with a pathetic smile. “It’s what I’m saying, about you. I love you… not… just anyone. You’re not just anyone. You’re the only you.”

She laughs, cold and dry and humorless. She smiles, and there’s something in her expression, some mix of sadness and joy and… pride?

“You really are stupid,” she says. “Such a stupid girl…”

“I don’t understand,” you say. Your hands are shaking now, resting on your lap, just waiting. Waiting for what follows.

Neptune sizes you up, like she can’t trust you, like she’s examining you. “Do you regret saying that just now? Was that a mistake that you can’t take back?” Her expression is serious, and you think she might really mean it. You can feel the shame.

“I… no, I… I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” You shut your eyes tight, and you’re afraid. It is a risk. It is a danger. “You don’t have to feel the same way. In fact, you probably shouldn’t, but I just… wanted you to know-”

She grabs you by the arm, and your eyes fly open to meet hers. She’s crying. “Shut up, just shut up, shut the fuck up.” She pulls you closer, taking both of your hands in her own. “I love you, okay? I love you so much… you are so… fucking nice, and good, and… pretty. And I want to be close to you. And I’m going to be cautious, and I’m going to be patient and gentle, because you’re fucking worth it, okay? And I’m staying here with you, I’m not going to leave you alone, so don’t ask me to. I’m going to be here with you until you stop forcing yourself to put up with all this bullshit, and stop putting yourself through all this shit every day.”

You’re looking for words, but she pulls you even closer, so you’re up against each other. So very close. “You’re strong and you’re gentle,” you say, trying to fill the silence. “Like the best kind of storm. You protect us…”

“And you’re a stupid dork who tries way too hard to sound cool,” she says, putting her forehead against yours. “And it’s great. I love you. Never shut up.”

Your hands feel warm for the first time in months, and you want to hold on just as much as you want to let go. Your face feels warm, too, you’re probably as red as a tomato by the time you pull away to look at her again.

And Neptune looks at you and grins, even through the tears. “Ha… god, you’re cute. You’re so easy to fluster. Not cool at all.”

You can’t help but look away, it’s too hard to look right at her, but immediately you regret it. You can’t look away. You don’t want to be ashamed, you don’t want to hide it and sneak glances.

“I’m sorry,” you start to say. “I don’t even know what to say. But I can’t believe you’d want to be around me this much, this seriously, I guess?”

She laughs, and it’s soft, so much softer than before. “I want to be by your side no matter how spectacularly you fail,” she says, shrugging even as she smiles at you lovingly. “If nothing else, it’ll make for good entertainment. But no, I won’t leave you, so stop getting me to try, you couldn’t make me.”

You chuckle. “That’s fair.” And there’s silence between you for a time, but it feels alright. It feels comfortable, it feels safe. “I guess it just doesn’t make sense to me?”

“No shit, idiot,” she says, pulling you just a little closer, leaving you room to escape. But you don’t. “We can all see you don’t like yourself. You don’t see what the rest of us see in you.”

You bite your tongue on making a remark in return, your attention is stuck on that phrase. The rest of us.

“What… about Venus?” Your voice is already trembling as you ask it, but based on the expression on Neptune’s face, it’s as though she already understands. Like she knew the whole time.

“I love both of you,” you whisper, and you’re ashamed. That isn’t how it’s supposed to work. You’re supposed to pick. Realistically, you’re not supposed to be with either of them. But the devil in you wants to indulge the thought. “Do you think there’s a reality where all of us can be together?”

She strokes your hair, gently, and you wince for a moment, but cling tighter to her so she doesn’t stop. You want her to know you don’t mind the touch, even if it’s foreign, even if it feels wrong at first.

“We’ll make it happen,” she says firmly. Strong, determined, maybe a little guilty. “All of us deserve that.”

“There’s not room for all of us in God’s world,” you whisper.

“Then it sounds like he’s the one who’s gonna have to leave,” Neptune says. “Because I’m not giving either of you up.” And she grips your hand tightly. “Never again.”

* * *

You don’t know how to do this. Not intentionally. You don’t know how to plan it, how to set it up perfectly. You know how to blurt it out in a frantic moment when your heart hurts so much you can’t take it anymore, but you don’t know how to plan for it.

You decide to make it distinct first, try not to recapture what happened between you and Neptune. Trying to recreate it would be bad, it would definitely go wrong, for any number of reasons. You want it to be perfect. If for only one time in your life you could avoid screwing anything up, you want it to be now. Venus deserves that much.

Ultimately, you didn’t have the courage to say anything, to invite her anywhere special. So you simply sit atop that wall right outside your school again, as you’ve done so many times before.

She’s the one who speaks first, and her words cut deep.

“Why do you do that, with your hair tie?” She looks down at your arm, then up at you, expectantly. Eyes staring holes in your hollow form. Instinctively, you grab at it, and snap it against your wrist.

“Sorry,” you mumble. You can’t look at her. “It’s… kind of a half-reflex at this point, I guess.” You shrug. “Whenever I just… screw up. Or… think something bad.”

“You do it all the time,” she fires back. Perceptive as always.

You give a weak smile. “Yeah.”

There’s silence between you for a little bit, and eventually, Venus fills it. “How long have you been doing it? Like… when did you start?” And before you can speak, she stumbles over herself to add something. “Uh… either with that, or with the cutting… either one. Sorry.” And she recoils and covers her mouth, like she realized she just said something bad, like she wants to walk it back. “Oh, I’m… sorry.”

You smile a little. “No, it’s okay. You’re really perceptive, really smart… but… you’re not always the nicest.” You snap a hair tie against your wrist. This is not going well.

“I forget when I started,” you say with a shrug. “I think it must have been when I was living with my mom.” Venus just nods along.

“It was a long time ago I guess,” you say. “And the cuts were really dangerous, and they made people upset, so I tried to stop.” You snap a hair tie against your wrist. “This way is just a little easier, a little safer. But… it doesn’t feel quite the same.”

She looks at you, urging you to continue, in her own silent way. Her eyes speak for her. You snap a hair tie against your wrist.

You sigh. “I’ve got a high pain tolerance now…” and snap. “I probably built it up by accident.”

Venus just stares at you, uncertain.

“It means… it isn’t enough anymore.” Snap. “It doesn’t hurt enough to feel like enough.” You sigh. “It needs to be worse.”

Venus stares at you.

“I want to hurt,” you say simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like it isn’t absolutely senseless. “I want to feel it.”

Venus smiles sadly. “You didn’t really… answer my question,” she squeaks out.

“I’m sorry,” you say with a smile of your own. And snap.

“I think… I kinda get it, though?” She looks at you like she’s waiting for permission to explain, so you nod. “You cut so you can take it out on yourself, to hurt yourself and be violent with yourself so you can be punished and let out your feelings all at once. Right?”

You look down at the ground, and snap a hair tie against your wrist. “I guess so,” you say, and you sigh. “Even I don’t know anymore, actually. It’s like an addiction. Maybe that’s the devil too.”

“I think you try really hard,” she says. “And I don’t get it. You keep opening up opportunities to get hurt that way. Trying means it’s possible to fail. If you don’t do anything, if you just silently slip under everyone’s radar… you’ll be okay.”

You look at her, and it hurts. “That’s a pretty hard way to live though. Nobody will know you, or see you.”

She nods. “Sometimes I don’t want to be seen. Or, I do, but not the way I am right now.” She pulls her legs up and holds them to her chest, clinging tight to them. She’s making herself small, ever smaller.

“I don’t mean to be mean, but I don’t understand putting in all that effort,” she continues. “You don’t… tend to succeed at things, right? So doesn’t it hurt?”

You nod. “That’s why I have to try.” There’s silence between you for a moment. “I’m not good at anything. So I might as well try my hardest at everything.”

Venus is quiet, just looking at you for some time. “That sounds really hard, though,” she says. “I’d rather just… be good at something, or not be good at something, who cares… it isn’t worth the hurt.”

You smile at her, pained. “But you want to be seen, don’t you?”

She shakes her head. “Not like this. Not how I am now. I’d need time.”

You nod. You understand that, at least. “Enough time to get right with yourself, and who you want to be. Enough so that even God would approve?”

She nods, a little happy that you got it, and a little sad for the same reason. “Wouldn’t that be lovely? If we still lived in a world where there was time. Where we didn’t get what we needed just a little too late.”

You nod, and then there’s quiet again. It’s an unreasonable quiet. You can’t take it. Silence lets your thoughts get at you, confront you with your fears. Hands in your head, poking and prodding at you with dirty fingers.

“I do want to be seen by some people,” Venus admits, mercifully breaking the silence. “You and Neptune.” You nod, urging her to continue. She adjusts herself a bit, squeezing her body’s form even tighter. “I just… want to be special. Important. Irreplaceable. I want you to miss me when I’m not around and think about me when I’m not here.”

“I know I do,” you say. “Actually, after… or… when it all happened?” You close your eyes, your breathing getting harder. Venus just watches you, patiently. She loosens her form just a bit, so she can get closer if she needs to. But she hesitates, too. Why would she want to get close to you, after all? Look what happened last time.

“I wished… you and Neptune… could get even closer,” you say, still too afraid to open your eyes. You’re holding yourself, now, your legs to your body. You need touch, but you don’t trust anyone else’s but your own. “Enough that you wouldn’t need me. I didn’t want you to need me. I wanted you to be okay on your own.”

You can feel a presence, Venus getting closer, but there are no fingers on your skin, no warmth against your body. “We didn’t need you,” she says. It’s a little harsh, and a little reassuring. “We never did.”

You can’t open your eyes, but you slowly hold up one hand, and you can feel her take it, intertwining her fingers and yours. It feels so safe, and so very wrong. “We were around you because we wanted to be, not because we needed you. We always figured you appointed yourself leader to feel important, or something. We didn’t… need you. We just liked having you around. You were nice, and fun, and you made us happy.”

“I was distant though,” you force out, raspy and harsh and barely more than just a whisper.

She clings tighter to your hand. “We all felt that way. But we understood. You were just trying to be good. You couldn’t have predicted that keeping that distance would end the way it did. None of us did. And we’re sorry. You didn’t deserve it.”

You squeeze her hand, just a bit. You hope you aren’t hurting her. “I don’t want to be distant,” you say. “I want… to be close to you.”

There’s silence for a moment, and your head begins to fill with thoughts of dread, like you just made an irreparable mistake. Is her hand loosening up, does she want to be let go? Just as you’re beginning to force out your first of many apologies, she cuts you off.

“I want that too,” she says. “I want to be close with both of you. I don’t want to choose.”

You finally lift your head, and open your eyes, and you look at her. You can feel the tears forming, and you can see them in her eyes too.

“I… love you,” you say, as your heart and your mind and your reflexes push against each other, each to stop another. “Do you… love me?” You snap a hair tie against your wrist. That sounded awful.

Venus smiles. “I’ll love you,” she says. “Scars and all.”

* * *

It’s the end of another exhausting week. On Monday, you had soccer practice, and then you confessed to Neptune. You’d also sprained your leg trying to keep a ball in play, and then you kicked it out of bounds anyway. Your teammates were concerned, but not as much as they were frustrated. On Tuesday, you failed an exam, because you forgot you had it, and forgot to study. After school, you confessed to Venus, and then you went home and cried. On Wednesday, you all had your behind-the-scenes stage crew work. You put a lavalier mic back wrong, and the cords got tangled, and the teacher yelled at you. It’s an expensive piece of equipment to almost break. On Thursday, you slept through your alarm and arrived late, missing your first class. You had to turn in your homework late, and you’ll probably get points off.

It’s finally Friday, which brings its own new stressor. In particular, another sleepover. This time it’s different though. It’ll be weird. Intimate, in a way you aren’t sure you can comprehend, or understand, or cope with. And even worse, it’s at your house.

“We don’t have to go to your house if you don’t want to,” Venus pleads in a voice that’s lighter than air. “I’m… sure my parents would be okay having you over again.”

You shake your head, trying desperately to fight back the fear and desperation and uncertainty. “We already made plans, though. So we can’t.”

“You say we can’t do things a lot,” Venus says with a slightly mischievous smile. “Like, we can’t run away from camp, or we can’t skip stage crew, or we can’t ditch that class to go get snacks… but you’re always the one who suggested it anyway.”

You laugh, a little uncomfortable. “Yeah. I guess I do do that. I’m sorry. It’s… probably frustrating.”

Neptune glares at you, sighing as she pockets her phone in the short jacket she’s wearing. “God, stop, this is fucking miserable,” she says with a groan. “You’re not fun to be around when you’re apologizing for everything.” She grins at you, a little smirk that you can’t help but fixate on. “I’m gonna have to help you break that habit, huh? Don’t say I never helped you out.”

You walk in silence, a little afraid, a little tense, and a little safe. You want to hold their hands, and it would be the easiest thing in the world to do. But you can’t. The prospect is at once both obsessively appealing and absolutely terrifying. You shudder every time you start letting yourself consider it. That would be bad, you know it would be bad. You refuse to let yourself be that bad. Not now, not yet.

“Do you… have games at your house?” Venus asks. She’s almost certainly just making conversation, but you still feel a little guilty that you didn’t fill them in beforehand. You should have.

“Oh no you don’t, little miss,” Neptune interjects, leaning over toward Venus with a teasing smile. “You were the one who said you wanted to study, didn’t you?”

“That’s kinda funny coming from you, Neptune,” you mumble. “Considering you always say how studying is dumb and pointless and you hate it.”

“And it is, and I do,” she fires back. “It’s a bunch of dumb extra work they expect you to do on your own time for something that doesn’t matter in the slightest anyway. Who cares?” And she chuckles a bit. “But you’re the ones who are so insistent on being good little students, so if nothing else I can at least be a little entertained watching how hard you both try.”

Venus giggles, hiding her face behind her hands. “You’re probably just gonna give up ten minutes in and go on your phone.” She barely forced her words out between a chorus of giggles.

“You know it, sweetheart,” Neptune says, firing finger guns in Venus’ direction. And for a second you feel like this will be okay. You love them both so much, and they seem so happy. Maybe, as long as you don’t mess it up, you can make this okay.

* * *

“Your room’s a fucking mess, Jupiter,” Neptune immediately remarks, taking a quick glance around.

“I-I try organizing it! Every so often.” You can feel yourself wilt a little. “It just… gets out of hand… especially when I’m busy with other stuff.”

“Hey,” she adds with a shrug. “I’m not judging or whatever. Neither of you are ever going to see the inside of my room, but it isn’t pretty.” She finds a seat on the floor, lounging back. “Honestly, I’m a miracle worker being able to come out of it looking this decent every day. People don’t give me enough credit.”

Venus looks at her, a little nervous, and Neptune flashes a warm and earnest smile in response. It’s pleasant, and it’s honest, and you’ve been seeing smiles like that from Neptune a lot more recently, like she’s letting down her guard just a bit. Being able to do that, even just a little, makes you feel like the most important person in the world.

It occurs to you that you are afraid, but you’re not sure what it is that you’re afraid of. Are you afraid they’ll judge you? You doubt they would, not in any way that would actually hurt you. It’s more of an existential fear, some fear that you’ll manage to mess everything up again. The devil still has his hooks in you, after all. Even this far from him, you feel it. You know he’s there, watching you, tenderly moving your hands forward every time you walk alongside Neptune and Venus.

“Do we… get cracking on the studying right away?” Venus asks sheepishly. “Or should we do something fun first. Something like… like a game of some kind.”

You plop yourself down on the floor, sitting cross-legged at just enough of a distance from Neptune that you’re still comfortable, but close. Managing the distance and the closeness is not going to be easy, you reckon.

“I… don’t really have that many games, I guess,” you say, putting on your best smile. You feel awful for not having told her, not having given a proper warning or explanation or anything. Just you and the two people you love and want the best for in your dirty, gross room that neither of them deserve to be in.

“We could…” Venus starts to giggle before she can finish her sentence. “Play truth or dare?”

“Don’t you start, Venus,” Neptune interjects. “Because now that you’ve said it, I actually want to do it. You’ve done a dangerous thing. I’d better make you regret it.”

She reaches up and grabs Venus by the hand, like it’s nothing, and pulls her down to a seated position, closer to Neptune than you are, and further from you, but in some vague and ugly approximation of a circle. You probably couldn’t get it right if you tried, anyway.

“Jupiter first,” Neptune adds, her eyes locking on to you. You look down and away immediately as best you can. “This is her house, so she goes first. That’s how this works.” And she smiles, a little mean but a little kind, you see all of it in the quick glance up at her before your face goes red and your eyes dart back down.

You rotate your hair tie around your wrist as you think, or more appropriately hesitate to say what you already know is the obvious correct choice. “Truth,” you mumble out.

“Easy!” Venus hops up onto her knees, bouncing with a mischievous excitement you rarely see in her. “Truth: how much of the work have you already done for that group project by yourself, because no one else will?”

She got you, right in the heart. You recoil just a little, smiling nervously as you avoid eye contact with either Neptune or Venus. “Damn,” Neptune says with a whistle. “Going for this one right away, huh? That’s a little harsh for you, princess.”

“I… I mean.” You search desperately for the words to downplay “I did all of it” to something a little less proud, less bragging. Pride is a sin, one of the worst, so you can’t just say that shamelessly.

“Jupiter,” comes Neptune’s stern voice, as if on cue. “This is truth or dare. And you picked truth. Lying about it is a worse sin than anything else, right?”

You grin to hide the discomfort, the anxiety pouring over you. “Um… I guess I did… well, like… sorry, sorry…” you’re tripping over your words as they come to you in real time, trying desperately to follow a thousand different pretenses for what’s right to say, trying to dodge every vice and somehow weave the perfect sentence, and you can’t. You were never smart enough for that.

“Oh my god, Jupiter,” comes Neptune’s voice again, a little goading but more… concerned? Much more. “It’s a fucking game, just say whatever you want. It’s not like anyone is actually going to care.”

“Sorry,” you attempt to say, but all you can force out is a whisper. You realize for the first time that you’re crying, now. You feel the wetness on your cheek, rolling down your face. It’s embarrassing. Your nose is starting to run, too, and that’s gross. You’re gross.

“It’s just a game,” comes Venus’ voice, soft and light and full of that horrible concern, almost like she’s scared of you, scared of how bad it is. There’s a feeling between both of them, a feeling of “I can’t believe it’s this bad.” You clench both your hands into fists just to make sure there are only two. To make sure you can still control how they move.

“I just want… to be good,” you say, your voice strained as it attempts to push the words out against a mountain of resistance. “I want to be good so fucking badly.”

“And you are good,” Neptune says immediately, cutting in before you can embarrass yourself further. “We keep telling you that. Who are you trying to convince, who do you want to prove it to? You know it won’t be enough for any of them. So who are you trying to get to say it?”

“I get it,” Venus says gently, scooting herself forward to be closer. “It’s you. You don’t want other people to have to tell you you’re good, right, you want to just… know it. To believe it inherently, without having to question it. Right?”

You nod, forcing every motion.

“I get it, because I’m the same way,” Venus continues. “I know it hurts. But… none of them are ever going to say it to you, and you’re never going to feel that way on your own. Not… not the way you are right now.”

You force yourself to make painful, painful eye contact with her. “I wasn’t ever going to be happy the way I was living,” Venus says, twiddling her thumbs. “Neptune told me. There was something I wanted more than anything, and until I could recognize it and get it, nothing I did would fill that gap. Nothing else could be that thing I wanted. I had to just… accept that. And then I could move on.”

Neptune smiles earnestly, no shortage of pride as she looks at Venus. Her expression shifts a bit as she turns to look at you, and that hurts, but then she speaks. “So, Jupiter…” her voice is sweet, honest and patient. It’s caring, it’s loving, it’s beautiful. “What is it that you want? Tell us. Please.”

You hesitate, searching for words and finding nothing. “I want to be good,” you reiterate, cringing at your own thoughts that led you to such a redundant and useless conclusion. But it really is all that’s there.

“You ARE good,” Neptune reiterates, a shocking lack of any irritation or frustration in her tone. “That’s what makes bullying you so fun.” She smirks, a little self-satisfied at how red she’s made you with a few words, but her expression is quick to return to its seriousness. “I mean it. You can tell us.”

“But it feels wrong,” you whisper. “I don’t know if it feels wrong because God says it’s wrong or if I feel like it’s wrong or… I don’t know.”

“I know,” Neptune says reassuringly, holding a hand out. “I know. You don’t need to push yourself, okay? I don’t care that much. I promise.”

You want to take hold of it, but you’re petrified. “I’d be lying if I said I understood,” Neptune continues with a shrug. “But I actually CAN be patient, you know. I don’t mind waiting if you need time to sort it out.”

You nod pathetically. “I want to,” you whisper. “But I’m afraid. I can’t. It’s like there’s some invisible wall between us…”

Venus scoots up closer. “I… I can’t really relate either,” she says shyly. “Like, I can’t imagine not wanting to touch my girlfriends, because um, I love both of you, and I want to be loved too. But I kind of get it.” She smiles sadly, avoiding eye contact. “Like, I still don’t like my body, so I’m afraid, and that’s natural, right? I don’t want all that love to go into this body that I hate, this… wrong one.”

You nod. “I appreciate the thought,” you say softly. “But it’s not like that at all. Not even a little.” Venus wilts a bit, and you snap a hair tie against your wrist. “Sorry. It’s more like… purity? Or impurity.” You motion at nothing with your hands, eyes staring into something impossible and nonexistent in the middle distance. “It’s like, nothing is pure when someone else touches it. I have to avoid everyone else’s touch for something to be pure. Even myself.” And you smile weakly. “But that’s impossible, isn’t it? And I know it is. No matter what you do, you can’t really live that way…” you sigh. “Touch is universal. It’s its own language, and it’s the way people can get warmth… so you need it. I need it. I really need it.” You almost choke on your tears. “But I’m afraid.”

There’s silence between all of you for awhile, no one knowing what to say, and for just a moment it occurs to you that all of this started with a game of truth or dare. This game really is the worst.

* * *

It takes a few more hours to come down from that and to really start having any fun again, and that fact makes you feel terrible, but you do somehow manage to do it. At dinner, you lean back in your chair too much and fall over backwards, banging your head against the wall. Venus freaked out so you laughed it off as best you could, but it does hurt, and she probably knows that too.

After dinner, you all return to your room and sit in a circle in your room and try desperately to crack open your textbooks to study. You already feel exhausted, and it’s even worse when you get another text.

“Tomorrow morning… they want to try and meet again,” you squeak out, preemptively recoiling from the expected response.

“No. Fuck them.” Neptune is quick to respond immediately, just as you expected. You smile meekly in an attempt to say you know, but there’s nothing you can do.

“Why are they so… shitty?” Venus asks, sliding her textbook to one side to look at you, brow furrowing just a bit in frustration. “They suck.”

“I… I dunno,” you sigh, running a stressed hand through your hair. “I’m grateful to them for helping me, because without their help I’d be dead on arrival, but…”

“But nothing. They’re assholes,” Neptune interjects, not looking up from her phone.

“I just wish they could be a little more understanding…” you’re grumbling, barely able to make words from the grating sound of groans you’re letting out. They’re cruel, and they know they can be. This is the harsh tone that support comes in, when failure is such a gentle, merciful silence.

“I wanted to get it all done on my own, so I did as much of it as I could…” you explain, words spilling from your mouth before you could hope to stop them. “I thought it would feel better. Like I’d feel like I was working harder, or something.” You shake your head. “I can’t do it again, I can’t keep doing it… I just can’t.”

“Which is exactly WHY,” Neptune says, stressing herself, looking so frustrated with you, but you know it’s only because she cares so much, and that somehow makes it so much worse. She sighs. “It’s why I’m telling you to say fuck it, fuck them, and not go anywhere. You don’t owe them shit, Jupiter.”

You shake your head frantically, as if you’re going insane. Your motions are jittery, tense, weird. “I’m the one who’s bad. I’m not pulling my weight.” You smile, and it hurts, and it isn’t by choice. You sigh, pulling back some hair from in front of your face and burying your face in your hands, and it just then strikes you how tired you are. “I can’t keep blaming them. I was the one who was bad.”

“Give me a fucking break, Jupiter, you couldn’t be bad if you tried,” Neptune says, irritated now, trying desperately to get through to you. You wish you could let her know it was working, but then she might stop. You need her to be as hard on you as possible. “You committed the mortal sin of not being in class the day they picked groups. Oh, the horror, how will you ever redeem yourself?”

Venus looks down, some shame in her expression, smiling sadly. “And the only reason you weren’t in class is…” and it strikes you again, another reminder. “Yeah.”

You clutch your shoulders and hold yourself as tight as you can, but it feels hollow, empty, pointless and cold. Your own touch isn’t enough, and it never will be. Your hands are cold and numb.

“Hey,” comes Neptune’s voice, somehow fierce and strong and protective, every bit as full of compassion as it is harsh. “Calm down, Jupiter. You’re here, with us. You’re here.”

You reach out, and immediately recoil, and then your whole body twitches, and you try again. “Please,” you whisper.

Neptune grabs your hand.

You’ve felt it before, of course you have. In moments of weakness, of fear, of that terrible desperation, you’ve accepted touch before. It’s impossible to live without it. But between those moments of contact was always the knowledge that you would keep trying to avoid it. To push everyone away, to resist the need for physical sensation. It had never felt like this, it had never felt like giving up, like surrendering to a vice.

Neptune’s hand feels warm, and safe, and careful. It feels scary, difficult, impure, all as it feels wonderful and gentle and kind. Like she knows. Like she’s trying so very hard to make it as easy as possible on you.

“I’m really tired,” you mumble. You’re looking at her face as much as you can, but you still can’t bear to make eye contact.

“Of course you are,” she quips back. “Have you even slept?”

You start to laugh. “I actually… don’t know.”

And Neptune laughs too. “Of course you don’t. That’s just like you.”

You scoot a little closer, and so does Neptune, and then you can feel the warmth of her body, of her closeness. She’s so close, and you want to get closer, just a little.

“This feels so bad,” you whisper.

“You’re good,” she replies, voice soft and careful. You nod, and she extends her reach, her arms enveloping you and pulling you into a gentle hug. “You’re very good… very easy, too.” She chuckles. “Look at how red you’re getting.”

You laugh, a little awkward and uncomfortable, but satisfied. “Sorry. I don’t know why this is so hard, or why it feels so weird.”

“Don’t apologize,” she says. It isn’t harsh, or malicious, it’s so gentle and careful and kind. You love her voice, you realize. You love the sound of Neptune’s voice.

And then comes another voice you love, Venus’. “Me too?” She’s protesting gently, a little afraid to interrupt, but a little more afraid to be left out. You feel a little guilty, too.

“Okay,” you whisper. “That’s okay, of course it’s okay.” And you feel more arms around you, more hands across your back.

“You don’t need to push yourself if you aren’t comfortable,” she says. “I can pull away if you want.”

You begin to close your eyes, and lean into the touch, the warmth and the safety. “I think it’s okay. Just for right now.”

You feel a hand running through your hair gently. You shudder, and you know they can feel it. “You’re here,” Neptune whispers. “You’re here, and you’re ours. You’re safe.”

* * *

“Okay that’s it,” Neptune says, hoisting herself up to her feet after a moment and heading out of the room to grab something. “We’re brushing your hair. There’s knots and mats everywhere.”

You laugh a little, still clinging tightly to Venus’ hand. “Sorry,” you call out. Venus squeezes your hand a little harder.

“It’s not your fault, jeez.” Neptune returns to the room with a hairbrush in tow, and kneels back down, immediately running it through your hair. It hurts, a lot, and it doesn’t go through cleanly at all. That’s probably all the knots and mats.

“Listen, Jupiter,” Neptune explains as she forces it through, careful but forceful enough to push through, the feeling of hair breaking and giving way to the might of her brush. “You’ve got like, a thing going, a whole… look. And it’s great. Like, really. But it’s no excuse for not giving yourself a little care every now and again.

You feel your cheeks heating up, and avert your eyes, both from Neptune and from Venus. “I’ve never really… been good at makeup or hair care and stuff. And, uh, as time went on, I realized I didn’t really… want to be? Like, I didn’t want to learn?”

“Oh, that’s fair,” Venus adds, nodding along. “I, um, personally… I want to learn. But I guess I’ve been scared.”

“I’ll teach you,” Neptune immediately fires back, love in her voice, a casual tone to show it’ll truly be no trouble, so that even Venus can’t protest. “You’ll be learning from the best in the business.”

It takes awhile longer for Neptune to finish, and once she does, she admires her work. Venus also takes a look, running her fingers through it. You wince a bit at that, and hold Neptune’s hand this time.

“Oh, it’s so soft now…” Venus says. “It’s all silky, and nice.” She runs one hand all the way through. “It even feels longer now?”

You cling tight to Neptune’s hand, squeezing it tight. “Ha… that’s weird. But thanks.”

You look up at Neptune, and she’s smiling. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, babe. That’s how girlfriends are.” She’s teasing you, but in the way you know is light-hearted. She doesn’t mean it, probably, you could back out of anything you didn’t want.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Guess I didn’t. Think about it? It just feels… weird. I guess I’m new to this whole… having girlfriends thing.”

Neptune fakes a gasp. “No, really? Could’ve fooled me.” That inspires Venus to break out in a fit of giggles, finally pulling away from your hair.

“Guess I’m dumb, huh?” You look up at Neptune with a little smile of your own.

“Oh, absolutely.” She chuckles a little. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re smart, you’re talented, I mean that. But you’re also extremely stupid in all the best ways.” She lets out a little sound, a short, satisfied breath through her nose. “It’s cute.”

Neptune pulls you a little closer, and hugs you gently, carefully, weak enough that you could break away if you needed. “You’re so stupid, and so good, and so gay.” You can tell from her voice that she’s smirking, that she’s truly happy. It feels good to be able to bring her that happiness. You feel important to be able to achieve it. She deserves it, too. Maybe you really are the thing she deserves, if not what she needs.

She pulls away after awhile, and you all try to quietly return to studying, somehow, as if it were even possible. And your happiness is short-lived. There’s a grace period of a few merciful minutes until you can feel your phone buzzing again. You slip it out of your jacket pocket, and take another look. Immediately, you can feel two sets of eyes on you.

“They… want to meet outside the school at 9 tomorrow,” you mutter, and you feel tired and groggy and exhausted just saying it.

“9am!?” Venus looks absolutely mortified.

“Tell them to fuck off,” Neptune reiterates, her textbook still unopened on the carpet floor, eyes still engaged with her phone.

You chuckle a little. “Haha… I wish I could, but I can’t. I did everything else, and we just need everyone else for this last part, so… I kind of have to, y’know?”

“Just… tell them no,” Neptune says, firm but honest, frank, confused, as if doing that is the simplest thing in the world. You intuitively crack a smile and start to laugh, but you motion at her that you don’t mean to be rude. She can tell.

“I’m serious,” she says, shrugging, looking at you with some mix of pity and frustration. “It’s literally as easy as saying no. You can’t do it at that time, and they’ll need to get it together some other time when you’re actually capable of it. Or, they can do this part on their own if they want to do it so badly, since they already made you do everything else. Simple.”

You shake your head, and the dumb smile on your face isn’t going anywhere. You’re also starting to cry again, which is dumb, and embarassing.

“Jupiter,” comes Neptune’s voice again. Firm, like a command, like an order. You love it when she says your name, but not quite like this.

You shrug, and a few awful, pained laughs come out, and you snap a hair tie against your wrist in a desperate effort to get it to stop. “Go ahead, y’know? You can make fun of me for it. It’s so easy for everybody else. I should just be able to do it. And I can’t. I can’t do the things everyone else can do so easily, for whatever reason.”

And Neptune sighs, and she comes a little closer, and offers one hand, and you want to take it. Slowly, reluctantly, your hand quivering in its place, afraid to move. “It’s because you’re so incredibly, stupidly good,” she says.

“I, um…” Venus scoots forward, poking her head out from behind Neptune as if she was hiding. “I get it. I feel the same way, kind of. Sometimes it’s really easy not to… and just, go along with it, and suffer, but then it’s over at least.” She sighs. “It’s still exhausting, though.”

“You’re both like this,” Neptune says, coughing slightly into one hand. “So good, for everybody’s sake but your own. It’s kind of disgusting.”

“Sorry,” you say, a big dumb grin still plastered on your face.

“Jupiter, don’t you DARE,” Neptune says, glaring at you just a bit, with almost a protectiveness to it, something loving in the anger and the fierceness.

“I know it’s frustrating,” Venus peeps. “It’s just not as easy for us as it is for you, Neptune. I’m sorry.”

“I know that!” Neptune throws her hands up in the air, shouting, looking exhausted, at point of breaking. You snap a hair tie against your wrist. “Don’t you think I know that? I’ve been there! I was the same way! And I almost fucking died over it!” She coughs a couple more times into one hand, and Venus begins to reach for her, look over her, but she shakes her off.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat.

“I said don’t you dare,” Neptune repeats. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad about yourself. I’m just… fuck, I don’t know. Scared for you?” She sighs. “The only fucking people I care about and you’re both falling apart and I’m fucking scared, okay?” She takes a deep, shuddering breath, wiping below her eyes with one finger. “Scared of losing you.”

You reach out nervously, and Neptune takes your hand, and in her other hand she takes Venus’. “Thank you,” she mumbles quietly. “It’s just not easy to watch you two like this. Venus was getting better, she was improving. I thought it was so cool when she stopped caring what other people think enough to just accept who she fucking is.”

Venus nods, blushing a bit, the red obvious against her pale skin and light blonde hair. “Sorry it took so long,” she says bashfully, in a way that’s still proud enough not to get her another reminder to stop apologizing.

“God, I hope you end up more like me, Venus,” Neptune continues with a grin. “I can barely imagine you actually cutting idiots down to size telling people how you really feel. It’s sharp,” and she presses a finger against her nose.

“Uh!? Gosh,” Venus panics just a little, turning quickly into a smile. “Wow. I can’t imagine that,” she says softly, like she’s considering it.

“I know, that’s exactly the problem,” Neptune says with a huff. “You’re still so dead set on appeasing everyone else.”

And then her eyes fall on you. “But at least you’re not Jupiter, who’s actively killing herself to make people she doesn’t like happy.” You smile and look straight down.

“I’m not saying this to be mean, Jupiter,” Neptune warns. “But if you keep… living like this, you’re gonna die, and none of them are gonna care.”

You shut your eyes tightly. “I know,” you say. “It’s why I became the devil. And if I’m not careful, it’ll happen again.”

“No, it won’t.” It’s Venus this time, with a fierceness in her voice and in her eyes that isn’t familiar to you. “We won’t let it.”

“Damn right,” Neptune says with a nod. “I’ll never let you get hurt again.” You feel like breaking down and sobbing over those words, but instead you just squeeze her hand a little tighter.

“I’m sorry,” you say with a nod, eventually. The exhaustion that you’d manage to keep hidden from everyone, yourself included, up until now suddenly takes hold, and your body feels a rush of miserable weakness course through it, like you’ll collapse in a second. Your vision blurs for just a moment.

“Okay,” you say firmly, taking a deep breath. “You can be mean if you have to. Just, please… never let me feel that way again. Never let me think it’s my fault.” You squeeze Neptune’s hand just a little tighter.

“Of course,” Neptune says. “I wouldn’t fucking dream of it.”

“We’re all… in this together?” Venus looks at you embarrassed, like she wanted to say something inspiring but slipped up. “Um, anyway, I promise. I’ll help too. I… can also be mean sometimes.”

You smile thankfully, and nod. “Oh God, I’m really tired,” you say, feeling extremely stupid as the words leave your mouth.

“Of course you are,” Neptune says, squeezing your hand back just a bit, as if she’s scared of losing you if she doesn’t, as if you’ll be swept away. “Please just lay down. Get some rest for once in your life. Have you even slept?”

You shake your head, smiling sheepishly. “I can’t. There’s no way to. There’s no time to. There’s always… stuff to be done.”

“The stuff to be done right now is to sleep,” Venus says, clearly a little proud of herself for the line. She smiles.

“You’re going to bed,” Neptune says. “Do you mind if I touch you, for just a second? More than this, I mean.”

You nod, a little hesitant, unsure where this is going, until you suddenly realize, because Neptune has lifted you up in her arms and is carrying you, and holy shit. Your face heats up and you can’t help but avoid looking at her, because again, holy shit.

She drops you down with a little care into your bed, which is a mess, and throws the covers over you from the foot of your bed. “Now sleep, idiot,” she says, clearly enjoying herself a bit. You can’t help but enjoy it too. Even from underneath your thick sheets you can hear the sounds of Venus’ uncontrollable giggles.

You poke your head out from under the covers, because you can’t ever let anyone have any fun, and open your mouth to protest. You still have that group project in the morning, so you need to set an alarm, or something. “But what about-”

“Fuck them,” Neptune fires back bluntly, and before you have a chance to protest further, she leans into you and her lips are on yours. It’s unexpected and shocking and amazing, and you feel a little confused but also so good, and your brain is firing on all cylinders right now and missing every target, not making sense of anything until she finally pulls away.

“Oh my god, holy shit, okay,” you mumble, completely incoherent, ducking yourself even further beneath the covers. Neptune looks at you, incredibly satisfied, as if to say that this is all going exactly as she envisioned.

“You’re not allowed to say that dumb bullshit to justify them treating you like shit to us,” Neptune says firmly, reaching down and carefully slipping the hair tie off your arm and setting it on your bedside table. “That’s the promise you made.” You could have stopped her from doing that, but you just let her.

“Sorry,” you repeat, and Neptune just looks at you, running a hand through your recently-brushed hair.

“You really are stupid,” she says, and she holds you close. “So, so stupid.” There’s so much love in your voice that you would swear in that moment “stupid” wasn’t even an insult, like it was the most loving compliment a person could give to someone else. Or maybe it’s just that kiss from before still frying your brain. Anything is possible. Both sound realistically plausible to you right now.

“Okay, also,” Neptune says, looking back at you as she makes her way back to the study semicircle you all had made together earlier, which you’ve just realized has been thoroughly ineffective for studying. “Tomorrow we are definitely making you shower.”

You’re embarrassed, and you hide yourself further beneath the covers of your bed. “Haha… sorry. I’m so gross.”

Neptune and Venus both glare at you when you say that. “You’re overworked,” Neptune says firmly. “It’s not like you’re purposefully aiming to recreate the sweaty grossness of summer scouts.”

Normally just being reminded of summer scouts like that would destroy your mood, but somehow you don’t care. Maybe it’s just the devil, getting his hooks in you again. But even if it’s that, somehow, you don’t really care. Maybe you’re just too tired to care.

If you did become the devil again, you think, maybe you’d have enough hands to give Venus and Neptune all the affection you want to. You could hold both their hands and hug them and stroke their hair and do all sorts of other things. It would be really bad to be the devil. But the extra hands would be nice.

You’re already starting to drift off to sleep, and it occurs to you that this feels good, feels safe. You’re obviously afraid, but you feel a little better now, a little safer. Your brain loves the opportunity to shut down for awhile and almost instantly you feel yourself entering a hazy state of semi-consciousness. You’re still aware of a couple things. At one point, Venus comes by and kisses your forehead, and holds your hand a bit, and you think you say something to her, but you forget what as soon as it leaves your lips. You hope it sounded cool.


End file.
